The Gambler: Part III
by Palace of Ice
Summary: The last part of the Gambler trilogy. Helen takes charge of Nikola's life and attempts to help him fulfill his potential and make both their dreams come true. Warnings: Femdom with a bit of a mother complex, mention of prostitution and rape, sexy scenes, a scary Victorian chastity device (ouch!), pseudo-intellectual conversations and gratuitous fluffy love!


The Gambler: Part III

"It is the bee that exemplifies the perfect civilization.

The significance of this lies in the principle dominating the economy of the bee-the most highly organized and intelligently coordinated system of any form of nonrational animal life-the all-governing supremacy of the instinct for immortality which makes divinity out of motherhood.

The center of all bee life is the queen. She dominates the hive, because she is the womb of this insect race. Then there are the vast, desexualized armies of workers whose sole aim and happiness in life is hard work. Finally there are the male bees, few in number, unclean of habit, tolerated only because they are necessary to mate with the queen.

When the time is ripe for the queen to take her nuptial flight the male bees are drilled and regimented. The queen passes the drones which guard the gate of the hive, and the male bees follow her in rustling array. Strongest of all the inhabitants of the hive, more powerful than any of her subjects, the queen launches into the air, spiraling upward and upward, the male bees following. Some of the pursuers weaken and fail, drop out of the nuptial chase, but the queen wings higher and higher until a point is reached in the far ether where but one of the male bees remains. By the inflexible law of natural selection he is the strongest, and he mates with the queen. At the moment of marriage his body splits asunder and he perishes.

The queen returns to the hive, impregnated, carrying with her tens of thousands of eggs-a future city of bees.

Imagination falters at the prospect of human analogy to this mysterious and superbly dedicated civilization of the bee; but when we consider how the human instinct for race perpetuation dominates life, there is ironic justice in the possibility that this instinct, with the continuing intellectual advance of women, may be finally expressed after the manner of the bee, though it will take centuries to break down the habits and customs of peoples that bar the way to such a simply and scientifically ordered civilization."

"Nikola...how perverse! Must you correlate sex with the death of the male? It is a savage association."

"Male sexuality is savage; something that must be controlled at best and eliminated at worst."

Helen shook her head exasperated. "Our notion of male sexuality is but a cultural construct. As with all such stereotypes, there is some truth to it, but that truth does not even represent the majority of actual men and their behavior."

Nikola shook his head sadly, "Behavior is deceptive because it is controlled by the civility of public discourse. What is felt and thought in the private space of the human mind is another thing entirely. Real evil is buried in every person's heart, like a seed waiting for the right conditions to sprout."

Helen stilled, aware of the implication of Nikola's words. He too had wished to...harm her. It was a chilling thought. Even the best and most refined of men concealed a cruelty inside. Her mouth hardened in a determined frown. Such a flaw in the soul of mankind was but a sickness like any other. Granted it was one people were born with, but like congenital blindness why couldn't it be cured?

"Might not such evil inclinations be seen as a form of mental illness? Couldn't the work of Freud and Jung find ways to uproot and eliminate it?"

Nikola scoffed, "Psychology isn't a science. Their theories are no better than those of philosophers or theologians. And if religion does work, then I suppose it will take a few more thousand years to achieve anything of worth. Much more promising for the present is the work of a Russian researcher by the name of Pavlov. Then, for the immediate future, over the next hundred years or so eugenics will gradually eliminate the most egregious examples of human depravity. The vast majority of whom are male, as we well know."

"Ah, and we come full circle back to your perfect society of the bee." Helen sighed.

"There is no crime, no rape, no war, no addiction. There is not even selfishness. A human society without males could very well be much the same." Nikola smiled crookedly and shrugged.

Helen took his hand, "But you forget, women love men. They love their fathers, brothers, husbands and sons. They don't want a world without those they love. Men can be barbaric and cruel it's true, but they can also be the flower of humanity; strong and brave, intelligent and ambitious, beautiful and noble. How could womankind bear to destroy those sort of men just to eliminate the brute and the criminal?"

Nikola smiled playfully, got out of his chair and knelt at her feet. He wrapped his arms around his beautiful angel and nuzzled against her soft bosom. "Ah, of course, I exist at your mercy! Please don't put me to death, even if I deserve it!" Helen giggled as his moustache prickled her breasts through her dress, tickling her. "You silly man! Stop it!"

...

She gently pushed him off of her and cradled his face in her hands. "You are so dear to me." Her cornflower blue eyes were warm with such love, Nikola felt overwhelmed. He knew he was unworthy of her. If she knew...he would lose her love and respect totally. A dark pain seized his heart, bringing tears to his eyes. He pulled free from her grasp and bent down before her.

"What...?" She sat up looking down on him, curled up on the floor as he kissed her feet. "Nikola!" She reached for his collar and tried ineffectually to pull him up. He resisted and continued worshipping her feet, muttering apologies. Hot passion flowed through his veins as he showed her his inferiority through this debasing act. "Nikola! Get up!" she ordered, pushing him away with her foot. "You promised to obey me, don't you remember?"

He quickly stood up and said contritely, "I'm sorry mother. I won't disobey you again." Helen shook her head and muttered annoyed, "Well, it seems I have a willful child to discipline. Whatever shall I do with you?" Nikola tried smiling at her charmingly, "I'll be good." She tsked at his boyish airs. "There is always something that needs to be done in an old house like this one. Have you ever cleaned out gutters?" Nikola shook his head anxiously. "It seems you are about to learn how." Helen led him outside. Nikola trailed along reluctantly. He just knew he was going to get dirty.

...

It was a strange relationship Helen was forced to acknowledge. In public, they remained as they had been, professor and student who enjoyed a somewhat scandalous friendship that provoked talk, no doubt tarnishing whatever was left of her reputation. In the privacy of her home, they were an unprecedented mix of mother-child and lovers, yet other than embraces and kisses, they remained completely chaste.

She had never removed so much as a shoe, much less an item of clothing, and though she had seen Nikola through the peephole at that unconventional brothel completely nude, being whipped, sexually excited and so on, he of course had no way of knowing that. Having this secret knowledge of him at his lowest was...she couldn't put one word on the complex mix of arousal, smug satisfaction, powerful superiority, and tenderness she simultaneously felt. She knew his secrets and he didn't even know it. There was an intoxicating intimacy to it and she found that she wanted more.

Beyond that, she was enthralled by the power she had over her lover. Whatever she asked of him he did. He literally begged her to take control of every aspect of his life, what he ate and the clothes he wore, he placed his salary in her hands, he even went so far as to ask her permission to smoke or leave the room to attend the call of nature. It was a bit ridiculous, the lengths to which he was going. But, she had to admit, he was prospering under her benevolent hand. He had cut back on smoking, was eating more and had stopped gambling. And for the first time since she had met him, he looked genuinely happy and carefree.

He was so obvious in his affections, like a puppy or a small child, even in public. No observer could mistake his besotted expression for anything else but love. It seemed almost unfair, that she could remain so composed while he couldn't seem to help wearing his heart on his sleeve for all to see. Yet he showed no shame over it. It was all so innocent. That was the part she loved the most. He was so pure. He was safe.

She was beginning to realize that there was nothing that he would refuse her. She could do anything she wanted to this lovely, gentle creature, and not only would he allow it, he would eagerly do it, just for the chance to try and please her. A mix of profound responsibility, arousal and love swirled in her fluttering heart. God, she wanted to touch him, to give him pleasure and see him come undone. Not cruelly with violence and suffering, as she had secretly witnessed, but sweetly, tenderly and with that strange innocence that only Nikola in all the world seemed to possess.

...

"Darling, you did such a good job today fixing up the house, I will give you a reward." Helen sat on one end of the velvet upholstered settee and tapped the seat next to her. "Lie down here and put your head in my lap." He obediently lay across the settee and settled into her lap. At first all she did was gaze down at him and stroke his face, letting him relax as she touched him and smiled at him lovingly. Soon enough his eyes half closed in bliss and he snuggled comfortably against her. She took his hand and placed it on her clothed breast, encouraging him to cuddle and fondle them. "Helen..." he whined uncertainly, but she shushed him. "Don't you want to make mommy happy?" she whispered, then slowly unbuttoned the first few buttons of her dress.

Nikola stared as she turned slightly and commanded him to unbutton her dress further. He swallowed and complied, undoing the many tiny buttons until her dress fell over her shoulders, revealing the heaving, creamy expanse of her full bosom. He moaned when she pressed his face to the warm silky skin. "Kiss me here. I know you want to." He could only obey, pressing a dozen tiny kisses to her chest, timid little offerings to a goddess. He shivered as she cradled his head in her arms and caressed his hair. She sighed voluptuously, "Do you want more baby?" and pulled the top of her corset down exposing more of her gorgeous white breasts to his eyes and lips. "Oh, Helen!" he whimpered, then reached into the top of her corset and pulled a breast out, exposing her pink little nipple.

He stopped himself suddenly, looking up at her, worried he had gone too far. She smiled indulgently and carefully pulled out her other breast, showing him the tender little bud. He moaned and latched on to the sweet nub, suckling hungrily as his loins filled with hot blood. He squirmed slightly as she slipped her hand under his jacket and caressed his chest through his shirt.

"My sweet little boy. It feels so good nursing you like this. Let me take care of you." She crooned delightfully as she unbuttoned his jacket, exposing his body to her, gradually unwrapping him like a present. He brought his hand to her free breast and gently squeezed and rolled the nipple between his fingertips, causing her to gasp with pleasure. "Yes, keep doing that!" she breathed heavily, thrusting her prominent chest out, pressing her abundant flesh into his rapidly working mouth and hands. She moaned softly and shifted under him. He could feel her thighs tensing and relaxing under him as she pressed them together and rolled her hips.

He suckled fiercely, afire with the desire to give her pleasure. She deserved everything he could give her, his generous goddess. This offering was so small, so unworthy, but it was all he had. He jumped and gasped as her hand settled over his burning hardness. She rubbed him slowly through the wool trousers, causing him to squirm and whine. He tried to pull his hips away from her strokes, but there was nowhere to go if he wanted to stay on the settee.

Helpless to stop her, he opened his eyes and watched her as he continued to please her. Her eyes were dark with sensual pleasure, full lips parted as she breathed. She was watching him so closely, while she rubbed him almost absentmindedly, riveted to the sight of him working her hard nipples. After a while she blinked slowly and gasped, her body spasming under him. He smiled around her hard nipple, then moaned as she gave him a squeeze though his trousers. He licked her nipple then gently pushed her hand away from his aching hard member. "Next time?" he asked timidly, holding her hand to keep her from touching him any more. She sighed and nodded, slipping her hand out of his.

She reached for his head and pulled him up to kiss him full on the lips, sliding her tongue into his wet mouth. Releasing him only after she felt fully satisfied, she moaned, "I love you so." He breathed in her hot living breath, pressing his forehead to hers, loins still burning and unsatisfied. "I love you too." he whispered passionately.

...

The Dean of the Mathematics department was a round little man, balding with a bushy beard. He rather reminded Nikola of a hedgehog, with a nervous habit of twisting his moustache, rather like a woodland creature grooming itself. "The university has brought to my attention certain, ah, forgive me, rumors circulating amongst the students, that your relations with your student Miss Magnus are...improper." The nervous fellow cleared his throat and twirled his moustache again.

"I have never treated her with anything but the highest respect." Nikola hedged, aware the best lie is one that is completely true. The Dean sighed exasperated, "Well, that's just the problem isn't it? The students tell me you have quite the romance going on during office hours." Nikola shook his head firmly, "I have been helping her with a special project in statistics and probability. Her intelligence exceeds the other students and she requires additional instruction."

"And what of taking lunch with her at the Purple Rose cafe next to the campus? What of this rumor I hear that you visit her house, where she lives alone, every weekend?" Nikola blushed, aware he was caught. "I assure you, I would never dishonor Miss Magnus. She is not only my best student. She is my dear friend." he said softly.

The older man nodded bemused, "You know, I even believe you mean that. Take some advice from someone who has been in that chair himself many years ago. Marry her. Otherwise, you may well find yourself without a position here. The donors don't like the scandal surrounding female students, and your actions are not helping. If Miss Magnus is truly your friend she will understand that. That will be all."

Nikola stood and nodded, went back to his office and sat behind his desk. What would he tell Helen? He knew she wouldn't want to marry him, no matter how much he loved and respected her.

...

His dear Helen gazed at him from the third row of the lecture hall. Statistics was not his favorite, but having her in his class made it bearable. Often he felt like his lectures were for her benefit alone, and he wished nothing more than to impress her. The other students never took much of his attention, some of them, in the back rows, even slept through the class. A few others asked questions that usually required explanations of basic arithmetic. How tedious. But her questions; he lived for those. The gleam of interest and curiosity in her eyes was addictive. He wished he could share in that enthusiasm, that the joy of learning was not something he had lost some time ago during his own college years.

After class he beckoned her to his side and led her to his office as usual. Sitting across from her, behind his desk, he folded his hands solemnly. "I have been threatened with termination due to rumors circulating amongst the students about our relationship." Helen gasped, covering her mouth with shock. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Nikola waved off her apology. "It's my fault. You are innocent by default as my student." He smiled sardonically and continued, "Marriage has been suggested as an alternative solution." He swallowed nervously, "I know you will refuse, but I have to ask because I cannot imagine, how I will continue living without you...Please, will you consider marrying me? You know I would never take advantage of the power over you marriage would grant me. I will still be your obedient Nikola. Please, I don't want to be parted from you."

Helen became very still, her gaze fell to her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "I-I really, I can't." She stuttered, breaking his heart. He wanted to beg, to kneel at her feet and plead for her to reconsider, but he couldn't, not here. Sniffing, he grunted an agreement, "Yes, I thought you might say that..." He collected himself for one more try, "Could you, would you mind telling me why? I just, I need to know." He braced himself for her to tell him that he was just not good enough for her, that she could never respect a mediocre person like him, a gambler, a man who was hardly a man at all because he lacked the will for self-control.

Helen started crying silently, "I-I guess I owe you that much..." She sat up and looked him right in the eye. Nikola held his breath, waiting for her to deal the killing blow. "I was engaged once." Nikola blinked in surprise. "He was a barrister. My father-" She sobbed softly, "He supported the match. John, he seemed like such a respectable man, well-to-do, I can't blame my father for being impressed." Helen curled over in her chair, as though she were wounded. She wrapped her arms around her waist and shivered with painful emotion. Nikola wanted to get to his feet and comfort her but was afraid she might be upset by his approach. He sat as still as possible trying to look harmless.

"We had been courting for a year. We were engaged. I trusted him. My father trusted him. So when he invited me to the theater to see Twelfth Night unchaperoned we thought nothing of it." Nikola felt a black weight of horror settling on his shoulders, realizing where the tragic tale was headed. "He had paid the carriage driver to take us to an isolated spot. I escaped the carriage and tried to run away. He grabbed me by my skirt and knocked me off my feet." She sobbed, "I couldn't do anything. The driver, he-he watched!"

Nikola couldn't bear it. He got to his feet and tried to go to her. She shrank into herself even more, afraid of him. Nikola knelt at her feet and tried to take her hands in his. She pushed him away crying helplessly. "Father was enraged. He-he got his pistol. I begged him not to go, but he couldn't listen. He said the law would never come down on our side against a barrister. I was bleeding, in shock. But it's no excuse. I should have been able to stop him from going and I didn't! He confronted John outside his flat. The police report said witnesses saw them struggle over the pistol. During the struggle my father had a heart attack and died. John was never charged. I was prostrate with grief and didn't do a thing. So useless!"

Nikola tried to take her hands in his again only to have her push him away. He tried to comfort her with words instead, "It's not your fault! Really, there was nothing you could do. He planned to harm you, trapped you and betrayed you. You were innocent Helen." Helen shook her head violently, "No! I didn't act to stop my father. I didn't press charges because I was afraid. I'm a coward and because of that my father will never have justice. I let John get away with his crimes. Even though I probably would have lost in court I should have tried. I should have fought!" She clenched her fist, angry tears running down her face.

Nikola sat miserably at her feet, wishing he could do something to help her. Lamely, all he could think was, 'You're only a woman. It shouldn't be your job to have to fight.' But he knew she would not want to hear such a thing, no matter that it might relieve her of a sense of responsibility. "Helen, I'll do whatever you want, just, please, is there something I can do to help you?" he asked her helplessly. He wished so badly that she would let him take care of her, to try to comfort her and protect her. There was nothing he wouldn't do to take away her guilt and fear, but he realized that as a man, he was part of the cause.

Helen gathered herself and took his hand and placed it on her skirt. She laid her shaking hands over his. "I know in my reasoning mind that you would never hurt me. You are my dear Nikola who could never hurt a bug. Who feeds birds and talks to them like they are his friends." Nikola blushed, never having realized that she had seen him do that. "But there is an irrational part of me, the emotional, subconscious part. I know I shouldn't let that part rule me and make my decisions for me, but I-I guess I am just a weak woman after all."

Nikola stroked her hand gently as she continued trying to explain. "I will never be able to marry. I abhor the thought-of in-intercourse..." She forced out the word as though spitting out filth, looking physically ill at the notion. Nikola shook his head in denial, "I will never ask it of you. You are sacred to me. Perfect and pure. No one could defile you. I will die before that could happen." He whispered it passionately, trying to convince her to let him protect her. She looked at him with large sad eyes. "Thank you for your offer. You are very kind to say so, but...I was defiled. I won't bear a man having power over me. Please respect my decision."

Nikola sat there, feeling as useless as a child, then bowed his head and nodded. "Whatever you need, I will do it for you." He resolved that he would find a way to stay by her side, no matter what the consequence might be to him. She needed him, and if it meant destroying himself, losing his job, being without prospects or references, he would do it, if only to have the smallest chance to show her the love and protection she deserved.

...

Nikola finished telling Madame Ritter of his scandalous situation at Oxford, leaving Helen's reasons for not wishing to marry out of it, merely saying that marriage was impossible for private reasons. "Would it be possible for us to perhaps rent room and board here every weekend? I am willing to pay what I used to." Madame Ritter smiled broadly, "Of course my boy. That sounds absolutely lovely! How romantic! Forbidden love and my establishment gets to be your little den of secret trysts!" Nikola blushed, "Well, yes, I suppose it is." he muttered embarrassed. The Madame led him to an unmarked room and showed him the furnishings. "You will have to provide your own bedding I'm afraid. If you would prefer a new mattress that will be your concern as well." Nikola grimaced with disgust, "Yes, I am sure Helen would prefer that."

This solution was not perfect, but it would allow them to continue to be together while appearing sufficiently proper in Oxford to satisfy public morals. Helen had been most reluctant to consider this location, but had agreed if it proved the least expensive option. It was not, but Nikola felt that the location was certainly much more hygienic than the other options, and he also enjoyed the familiar people and surroundings. Trust went a long way towards comfort when it came to lodging in his opinion, and besides that, he preferred Madame Ritter's cooking to the offerings of the local restaurants. She had once served him a lovely goulash when he happened to come by during their lunch hour. No doubt Helen would come around to his way of thinking when she saw the room, with a new mattress and bedding, of course. He sighed, glad he still had a little extra money from his winnings.

...

They took separate trains to London. It all felt terribly clandestine, but they were both rather used to it, Nikola with his gambling habit and Helen with her work with prostitutes. Neither one of them really cared much for propriety.

Nikola showed her the room. Apparently as a joke, Madame Ritter had had a little plaque made that said 'Dr. Helen Magnus' that made Helen most displeased. Nikola actually thought it was rather nice. He also appreciated the key Madame Ritter gave him. Helen seemed oddly suspicious of the room and examined the walls closely. It was very strange, but when questioned she just said she was worried there might be bugs.

That night, he asked her to share the bed with him. She changed into a nightdress behind a modesty panel, and then slipped under the sheets with him. He asked if he could hold her for a while, making sure to address her respectfully as 'mother' and after a moment's hesitation she allowed it. Holding her in his arms while she slept was utter bliss.

...

The one thing Helen had not thought to contend with was the serious temptation that staying in the red-light district posed to Nikola's gambling problem. The place was full of gambling of every kind, from dingy faro houses to Chinese kino dens awash with opium smoke. Nikola looked distinctly antsy whenever he spied one. Occasionally, he would point one out and recount to her the exact amount he had won there, at what game and when. What thrilled him the most was calculating the odds against his winning hands. Somehow, he seemed to believe that he had defied fate every time he won.

Helen had never seen such a fanatic gleam in his eye as when he talked about the complexities of winning at dice. The possibilities were really too many to figure out the odds of because of the element of choice by the player. He explained that this made it the most exciting, and it actually had pretty good return, but he couldn't play it because he always lost his head and lost too much money at it. Then offhandedly he mentioned that 21 had made him the most money because he could memorize each card as it was played, but he hadn't quite figured out the best betting strategy for the highest possible return.

Helen exclaimed, "What do you mean you can memorize every card? That's impossible, isn't it?" Nikola laughed, "My mother taught me how to memorize anything. She taught me Serbian epic poetry before I was even ten years old. I have whole books memorized. I assure you that it's very possible to memorize fifty two cards."

Helen was shocked, "Do you know Faust?" Nikola nodded, and Helen began to quote, "The glow retreats, done is the day of toil;" Nikola promptly completed it for her,

"It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;

Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil

Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!"

He stopped and hummed thoughtfully, "Though I think it's rather better in the original German:

Sie ruckt und weicht, der Tag ist uberlebt,

Dort eilt sie hin und fordert neues Leben.

Oh, dass kein Flugel mich vom Boden hebt

Ihr nach und immer nach zu streben!

Ein schoner Traum indessen sie entweicht,

Ach, zu des Geistes Flugeln wird so leicht

Kein korperlicher Flugel sich-"

Helen cut him off, "Alright, I believe you!" She shook her head amazed. "You were dead serious when you said you got your genius from your mother, weren't you?" Nikola scoffed, "Of course I was. Though my father helped with my education as well. He had the bible well memorized at any rate, so that was rather obligatory, and he trained me in rhetoric and logic. I suppose it was a necessary evil in order to convert atheists and heathens, hmm?" He laughed at his own joke rather obnoxiously. Helen smiled indulgently, then took his arm, steering him away from the various temptations.

...

As Nikola and she walked by a small park Helen noticed that suddenly she was getting a lot of dirty looks from the men loitering about. Strangely there were none of the scantily dressed women that lingered on every street corner of the rest of the red-light district. The men eyed Nikola speculatively, running their eyes hungrily over his perfectly tailored suit, from his pure white high collar right down to his pristinely polished shoes. Helen was nervous that they might be thieves set on robbing a seemingly wealthy man and whispered her suspicions to Nikola only for him to laugh at her.

"They think I'm cruising. They are just looking for a customer, no different than the women. It's you they're confused by; probably think you are trying to take away their business." Helen was flabbergasted, "There are male prostitutes?!" Nikola shushed her, "Of course there are, men know no limit to their depravity. You should know-ah, I'm sorry, that was poorly said..." Helen waved it off crossly. "Don't change the subject. You seem to know about these...men. Have you...?" Nikola shrugged casually, "Once or twice when I was younger. A little rub to take the edge off. The boy I knew back home was very nice and very poor. Eventually, someone knocked his teeth out because he was, well, doing what he was doing. He ran away to Prague and was never heard from again." Nikola looked pensive and sad, "Sometimes I wonder if he is even still living."

...

They were just leaving the park when two men came out of an alley; one wiping his mouth and the other, a short stocky fellow with rather greasy blonde hair was buttoning up his fly. He startled with recognition when he saw Nikola. "Well, fancy meeting you here! The one that got away!" Nikola groaned and attempted to go around the obnoxious fellow but was swiftly blocked. "Now, I never did hear from you about those books, but I see you have no need for fantasy when you have the reality here, in the flesh. And quite lovely flesh, if you don't mind my saying." The greasy little man leered at her, probably mistaking her for a high-class prostitute. "How much did this cost you?" he asked Nikola, ignoring her as though she were incapable of understanding human speech.

Nikola grunted disgusted, "Actually, she is my," he paused uncertain of how to put it, "...lover. Unlike some people, I don't have to pay for my companions." The blonde scoffed at the insult then surprisingly addressed Helen directly, "I'm sorry ma'am. Please forgive my assumption. I'm Nigel by the way, and you are?" He smiled in a smarmy fashion and attempted to take her hand to kiss. Nikola slapped it away. "Good God Helen! Don't touch! Who knows where he's been!"

Nigel simply laughed, "Yes, I suppose you have a point there! Well, nice as it's been running into you two, I should really be getting back to work. These boys need to remember who's the boss of them. Time to collect taxes, so to speak." Helen piped up surprised, "You are their manager then, I take it?" Nigel groused, "Manager? Lady, I'm their pimp. I direct interested parties to them, rough up any men harassing them and so on. For that they owe me my fee. Now if you'll excuse me..." He went off to speak to one of the young men lingering by the alleyway. Nikola heaved a sigh of relief and led Helen back toward their lodging. Some of Madame Ritter's goulash sounded good right about now.

...

It was probably one of the most awkward meals Helen had ever had the misfortune to attend. Not only was she forced to sit across from that woman Anna, who smirked knowingly at her and was no doubt gossiping about them right in front of them in Russian with Madame Ritter, but she was also obliged to meet all the other women working there.

A French woman named Lisette who was obviously an alcoholic from the way she was polishing off her third glass of wine. A Prussian by the name of Helga, who seemed to have the typical cold Teutonic pride. And finally a somewhat older Hungarian woman who went by the pseudonym Nemesis. Nikola was delighted to learn she also spoke Czech and had lived in Prague for a while. They chatted back and forth happily, while Madame Ritter attempted to engage Helen in conversation. Her prying personal questions were making Helen most uncomfortable, aware as she was that the whole table was listening. Well, with the exception of Nikola and 'Nemesis.' They were too wrapped up in speaking Czech together.

"Nikola has told me you don't wish to marry him. I can't help but feel offended on his behalf. Whatever could be the matter? He is gainfully employed, handsome if a bit young, quite brilliant and cultured. Is it his little gambling problem?" Helen sighed, "I don't think any self-respecting woman should submit to becoming little more than property. That is essentially the legal status of a married woman." Madame Ritter tsked, "But what about love? Surely, you believe in the sanctity of the institution, two becoming one and all that." Helen pursed her lips, attempting and failing to resist rolling her eyes. "The institution exists for the formation of families, the creation and raising of children. Love hardly factors into the financial transaction that is the reality of marriage."

Madame Ritter smiled patronizingly, "The act of love certainly carries the risk of pregnancy. Surely, you wouldn't have Nikola father a bastard?" Helen snapped, "Well, there's no risk of that!" A prurient excitement spread around the table. Madame Ritter asked the question on all the listening women's lips, "Do you mean to say that you two have _unconventional_ relations?" Helga broke in with a grin, "Do you punish him? Torment him by withholding intercourse?" Lisette threw in her own question, "Do you degrade him and whip him like a dog?" The intrusive questions finally ended Nikola's conversation in Czech. "Ah, ladies, must we discuss this at the table?!" he interjected tremulously only to be shushed by scolding women from every side. Realizing he was outnumbered he sat there silently, face red with humiliation, eyes looking at Helen's pleadingly. The tense silence was broken when Anna cackled wickedly as Madame Ritter translated for her.

Helen said frostily, as only an English woman could, "I'm sure it's none of your business, but our relationship is quite chaste and contrary to your assumptions, very tender and loving." Aware as she was of Nikola's eyes on her, wishing and waiting for some pronouncement of her affections and commitment to him, she added softly, "He is obedient not because I threaten him with punishment, but because he loves me and wishes to please me. For that reason, I love him like my own child and enjoy caring for all his needs." The gleam of pure admiration in Nikola's gray-blue eyes was enough to make up for her lost privacy. After all, their relationship had to remain unacknowledged in public. These women, in this underground society of disreputable relationships, were indeed the only people whom they could tell.

Madame Ritter sighed, "Oh, such heavenly love you have, not merely unconventional, but miraculous! What worship I see in his eyes. Don't you see it ladies? And what gracious benevolence in hers. What a truly awesome love! Well, Miss Magnus, I will pry no further. It is clear to me that you two are meant to be."

...

That night Nikola was particularly eager to please. She carefully undressed him, savoring his nudity. Once he was ready, she instructed him to unbutton her dress, loosen her corset, and peel them both back until her bosom was fully and gloriously bare. She then let him lay across her lap in the spacious bed and snuggled him between her large breasts. He was visibly excited in the bare and obvious way of all men. Looking at his naked sex she was struck by its vulnerability, the way his erection advertised his feelings, the tender organs cradled in their little sack, so easy to jostle, fondle or grab. How could it be that all those intimidating, dominating men that seemed to fill the world to bursting were concealing such soft weakness between their legs? The desire to explore those sweet hanging fruits of love became irresistible.

She placed her hand on his slim thigh and gently stroked the soft white skin. "May I touch you? I would like to feel them." She asked softly, moving her hand to hover over his genitals. He moaned and nodded, showering her breasts with little kisses. She began lightly caressing the hairy sack, feeling the little globes shifting around inside the loose skin. "Oh, they are nice, furry and cute." She cooed to him and cuddled him to her while petting his tender flesh. Her actions attempted to make him seem as small and harmless as possible, for she had to work up some nerve for what she would like to do next. "Baby, can I hold you here? Would it feel very nice for you?" She slid her fingertip along the rigid shaft in the most teasing manner imaginable. Nikola nearly sobbed with passion, "Oh yes! Please!" He took her breasts in his hands, kissed each then pressed them tightly together so he could take both of her nipples in his mouth at once. Helen moaned as his suckling shot a bolt of heat straight from her nipples to her sex, causing her to moisten and burn with pleasure.

She took Nikola's velvet covered rigid shaft in her hand, gripped it firmly and stroked. She watched riveted as his body clenched and twisted with every little movement of her hand. She watched as he licked her nipples like an animal, eyes trustingly closed. She watched his face slacken with bliss as his shaft began jerking in her hand. She watched as the white seed fountained out of it, spattering over his belly, dripping over her hand. She watched his eyes open, blinking through the sweat dripping from his brow as his manhood softened in her grasp. Never before had she felt so strongly that he was completely hers.

...

"Professor Tesla. I have called you here to go over your performance. The students have given you mixed reviews. Some of them have made accusations of favoritism. They say you have a 'teacher's pet' who also happens to be a rather attractive, unmarried woman. The Dean of your department tells me that he has already reprimanded you over your improper relationship with Miss Magnus, and reports that you have ceased seeing her outside of class and during office hours. That is certainly a step in the right direction, but the issue of possible favoritism remains."

The Chancellor of the University was a dour looking, long-faced man, completely bald with a wispy beard. Nikola shifted about on the uncomfortably hard chair, wondering what the point of all this was.

"Several of the students have protested her presence in their classes, alleging that the standards have been lowered for her, due to the lesser intellectual capability of women-" Nikola interrupted angrily, "Ridiculous! She is smarter than all of them! To allege that academic standards are being lowered for her is exactly backwards!" The Chancellor raised a brow, bemused by the young professor's outburst. "Ah, you'll have to forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

Nikola shook his head, "Numbers don't lie. I can show you a comparison of her scores to all other students that have taken the same exams. She is a prodigy of the highest order, a woman genius-" The Chancellor cut him off, "Well, I can certainly see what the students have been complaining about. Their parents are highly influential people; most of them are alumni that support the university. In a dispute between them and you, I think we both know whose opinions will carry more weight."

Nikola frowned, forcing himself not to scoff in disgust. "What do you want me to do about it?" The Chancellor looked uncomfortable, embarrassed even. "Our official policy is that women may audit classes at the discretion of the professors. Simply exercise that discretion and let her know that her presence in your class would be unacceptably disruptive. No doubt she will do the proper selfless thing and give up these unnatural intellectual ambitions."

"But her potential is so great, I don't think it is right-" The Chancellor impatiently waved off his concerns, "You have to realize, Miss Magnus is not a well woman. After her father died in such a senseless and mad act, I'm sure you've heard about it..." Nikola nodded hollowly, "She has become obsessed with trying to carry on his work in medicine. Now, I admit that she has a certain talent for her studies, but it is a misguided and futile dream that she is wasting her life pursuing. She has put off marriage, has no husband to care for her, no children to fulfill her. Haven't you asked yourself how she will end up if you support her mad quest? No one will hire a woman as a doctor. Even should she complete her studies here it will all be for nothing. For the time being she has the means to support herself, but without a husband managing her affairs, how long will that last?"

The Chancellor sighed sadly, "You're a young man who hasn't seen women such as her fall into destitution, but I have. The Dean is my friend and he confided in me that he advised you to marry Miss Magnus. Personally, my advice to you is the same. If you truly care for her, it is exactly the right thing to do." Nikola hung his head, obviously troubled. The Chancellor shook his head, wondering what was wrong with young people these days. "Give my words serious thought, Professor. Dismissed."

...

Nikola neglected to tell Helen about his troubles with the administration. He supposed that he might as well let her finish the semester, then try to break the news to her gently over the winter break.

Increasingly he felt conflicted over her position on marriage. He knew that despite the veil of innocence that her maternal behavior toward him cast over their physical relationship, what they were truly engaged in was a form of adultery, and that defining their relationship as chaste due to the lack of intercourse was really intellectual dishonesty. It must be sinful, what they were doing, yet he couldn't find it in himself to feel guilt. She was his angel, his goddess, perfect and pure. How could he ever believe that she would lead him astray? If anything she had led him back to the path, saving him from the hot passion of gambling and, he hated to admit it even to himself, whoring. No he couldn't doubt her goodness for him, but his goodness for her? That was another matter.

Was he wrong to let her remain unmarried and support her studies? Was she really unwell and in need of guidance? After what had happened to her, the tragedy she had endured, anyone, no matter how strong, could develop serious mental problems.

...

Most unfortunately for the loving couple, the Madame had apparently let Nigel, pornographer, pimp and jack-of-all-trades, at least the debaucherous ones, in on the secret that they were staying with her every weekend. The man decided to join them for meals, seemingly for no other reason than curiosity over the young couple.

Nikola had to admit the man was surprisingly well read for someone of his class. It seemed he was an autodidact who was teaching himself a bit of chemistry. No doubt he planned to use it for some utterly nefarious purpose. But what business was it of Nikola's? Helen was becoming most perturbed by the man's expressed views on women. Two people of such diametrically opposed opinions could not be imagined.

"Civilization is based on the bonds between men, especially the ribbon of blood that is the brotherhood of war. We all know that the basis of the state is its military, without which it could not survive in a predatory and hostile world."

Nikola nodded in agreement, thinking of the ever present threat of literal enslavement by the Ottoman Turks that all residents of the military frontier feared. As a Serbian born under the rule of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, he had been registered for military conscription immediately after birth. Luckily, his father, as a pacifist and to protect his only surviving son, had concealed him from the draft when he came of age.

Nigel continued, "Women on the other hand, survive through obtaining the favor of a man, whether it be through marriage, or more honestly through prostitution. They do not form cooperative bonds with each other to protect the state from hostile invasion. Instead, they compete with each other, struggling to win the favor of the highest status man they can manage to attract. Thus, it can be said that women are parasites on society, which effectively is defined as the society of men."

Nikola sighed, having heard this line of reasoning before. He watched as Helen visibly bit her tongue and wondered why she didn't bother to argue with the man. He supposed he ought to say something.

"War is an existential threat to any society, and it is true that men are necessary for that purpose, but this fact does not make women the parasites. It is men that create the conditions of war that they themselves are required to fight. If anything, it is men and their rapacious desires for more power, more wealth, more slaves, more everything, that are the true parasites of society. No, even worse than parasites. They are more like predators or a deadly disease, hell-bent on destroying the host entirely, rather than merely riding along like a leech."

Nigel scoffed, "Spoken like a genuine eunuch. Your singing voice must be lovely! Have you considered apprenticing to Alessandro Moreschi? I understand the Sistine Chapel could use some more castrati."

Nikola ignored his taunts and meticulously buttered his bread. Like all bullies, Nigel reacted with indignation. "Everyone at this table knows what sort of man you are. You would no doubt be overjoyed if the statuses of the sexes were reversed and women held the reins of power. Men like you, if you can even be called as such, are exactly what is wrong with the world. Unnatural women are hard at work, attempting to usurp for themselves the rights and responsibilities that properly belong to men, corrupting the minds of sensible women and raising up a generation of effeminate cowards like yourself-"

"Nigel, that will be quite enough." Madame Ritter interrupted. "Now, I know you love to debate, but I will not have you insulting my guests. Why don't you tell us how business is going, maybe about this new partnership you have been mulling over?"

Nigel began explaining the refinement process he had developed for coca leaf along with his partner James. "Unfortunately, he's a pretty serious addict so I have to manage all the inventory. On the other hand, the man is hung like a bull and fucks like one too. I wouldn't put up with his problems otherwise." Helen coughed at the crude language, and then inquired, "How can a man who plays the woman's role in sex deride another as effeminate?" Nigel sneered, "Men weaken themselves by even associating with women. They are parasites that try to sap a man's strength, pacify and domesticate him. Besides that, a real man finds dominating women to be no challenge, so only another man is fit company. Whether he is the giver or receiver is irrelevant to masculinity, so long as he avoids women and the taint of their feminine weakness."

Nikola shook his head, disgusted by the whole conversation. "Helen, may I be excused?" he asked out of habit, only to wince at Nigel's braying laughter. "What else do you ask your mommy permission for?" Nikola flushed, threw his napkin on the table and left. Helen quickly followed, Nigel's voice trailing after her, "Looks like mommy has to go dry his tears!"

...

Nikola looked up from the chaise longue in their room when Helen came through the door. She sat by his side and hugged him around his skinny waist. "Why didn't you argue with him? You never hold your tongue with me." he asked plaintively. Was he actually affected by that ruffian's taunts?

Helen sighed, slipped her hand under his jacket and stroked her lovely man's side. "I've heard all that before. That kind of man, there's no point in arguing with them. They think they are reconstructing the culture of ancient Sparta or some such nonsense, but I figured out their true motivations long ago." Nikola looked at her wide eyed with curiosity. She laughed indulgently, "Alright, I guess I will have to tell you my theory."

"Traits such as height, weight, intelligence and so on within a population form a Gaussian curve shaped rather like a bell." Nikola nodded impatiently. "Men like Nigel would like to think that the curve of the population of men would have a higher average value than the curve of women, in all respects. Now, as I'm sure you can guess, they would not be wrong. Men do have a higher average value for both mental and physical traits." Nikola interrupted, "But that could simply be due to disparities in education." Helen nodded but immediately argued against his assertion, "That may account for intelligence that can be developed through training but what about those who exhibit innate intelligence such as your mother? But, we are getting off-topic. Going beyond the surface appearance of data is what separates common research and researchers from ground breaking ones. I will tell you the secret that makes everything clear." She held Nikola in suspense for a moment, enjoying sharing her insight with someone so visibly enthralled by her words.

"The bell curve of women's traits is steeper than men's." He caught on immediately, "They trend more toward the average." Helen smiled like a teacher pleased with a particularly bright student. "Yes, and so the opposite holds for men. They trend more to the extremes, meaning that there are far more male geniuses, but there are also far more idiots, criminals and brutes. What is most intriguing is that in order for the male average to still be higher-" "Female geniuses must be exceedingly rare, male ones more common, or the magnitude of their genius must be greater." Nikola completed her thought for her, then continued puzzled, "But how does that refute Nigel and his ilk?"

Helen raised a brow dubiously, "I'm surprised it hasn't occurred to you. The data implies that, roughly speaking, there are two kinds of men, men who are not only superior to the vast majority of women, but also to the even vaster majority of men, and the other kind of man, who is either about equal to most women or vastly inferior. Men like Nigel would like to believe that because the average is higher all men are superior to all women, and their motivation is obvious. They know in their hearts that they are inferior to men such as yourself, so like a house cat confronted by a tiger, they attempt to pick a fight with a bobcat instead."

...

James was a surprisingly pleasant man. Well-mannered, erudite, frighteningly perceptive and intelligent. He was solidly middle aged and had been a bit of an adventurer in his youth, enlisting in the military and fighting in several battles. Unfortunately, after a serious injury he had developed what was colloquially known as 'soldier's disease' becoming completely dependent on the pain killer heroin. In order to bring himself out of its sedating effects he began drinking tinctures of coca leaf. His growing tolerance of the drug had led him to his interest in refining the stimulant, and thus, his current arrangement with Nigel.

Nikola was very much enjoying discussing the finer points of German literature with their new dinner companion, but Helen was more intrigued by his personal life. How was he able to so successfully live this double life? A respected psychologist by day and a drug addicted sodomite by night. Of course, it was entirely improper to ask such a question outright. Perhaps she should ask his other half. That man certainly didn't care about propriety. "Nigel, how is it possible that James, ah, partners with you, and is still able to run his practice?" The chauvinist sneered smugly at her, "He's a man, that's how. No one cares about his personal affairs because unlike you he doesn't require any paternalistic guidance." Helen scoffed, "We both know there must be more to it." Nigel nodded, seemingly pleased by her ability to see through him, "He's independently wealthy. Enough money and reputation suddenly makes no difference at all. Such is the way of the world." Helen nodded slowly, aware that he was right. Enough money and a person could pretty much do whatever they wished.

Nikola's high tenor floated across the table, "Your accent really isn't too bad. It could almost be mistaken for Bavarian, wouldn't you say so Madame Ritter?" Their conversation abruptly switched to German, leaving Lisette, Nigel, Anna and herself in the dark. Helen sighed, wondering if she should have taken modern languages more seriously in school, rather than focusing so heavily in natural sciences and mathematics. She watched raptly as Nikola fluently conversed with half the table. Strangely, he spoke a lovely Austrian German, without a trace of the heavy Slavic accent that colored his spoken English. Feeling her admiring gaze on him, he glanced over at her and smiled brightly. She was suddenly struck by what a gorgeous creature he was, so brilliant, young and full of the unfulfilled promise of his buried dreams. The longing for happiness swelled in her breast. If only she were as wealthy as James, then perhaps she too could defy society, live with and love this beautiful man openly. Who knew? Maybe she could even resurrect his dream of studying engineering.

...

Nikola had been bemused by Helen's request for a writing desk for their 'little love den' as he playfully called it, but obtained a second-hand one for her, had it delivered and moved it into their room himself. He looked over her shoulder, curious about the series of numbers she was writing. "Ah, still working on our special project are you?" he inquired, pleased by her continued interest in his field. She turned to him, kissed his lips tenderly then gently began to steer him toward her way of thinking. "I've been working on a betting strategy for twenty one that would maximize the return." Nikola raised a brow, "Really? How would it work?" Helen showed him a chart she had made, "Instead of memorizing the cards like you have been doing, I assigned a value to high and low cards that have been played that determines the probability of getting a streak of winning hands. When there are a lot of high cards in the deck that is the time to bet heavily. My system should change the advantage from 0.5 percent house advantage to 1.5 percent player advantage."

Nikola was visibly startled by her assertion and took a closer look at the figures. She continued pressing her case, "To further increase return, multiple players could track different tables. When a table reaches the highest probability of winning, they could then signal the main player to their table." Nikola shook his head bemused and asked, "How-why did you come up with this system? This is beyond the scope of a mathematical problem."

Helen prepared to make her case, "Do you know how much it would cost to study electrical engineering?" Nikola instantly said, "£450 per course per year. It's equipment heavy, so it's one of the more expensive subjects. That's part of the reason why my uncles suggested mathematics. It's one of the least expensive subjects because it only requires books, pencil and paper and an underpaid instructor." He smiled ruefully, and shrugged. "You know I've thought about going back to school, but I will never be able to afford it. Even at my maximum amount of winnings it would only cover a fraction of the cost, and besides how would I live while I'm in school? I'm not a child. I can't ask anyone to pay my living expenses anymore." Helen nodded but said, "You could make five times the total amount you would need for tuition. All it would require is a team of four players and 33 hours of disciplined play at approximately a dozen casinos. In a few months you would be a wealthy man, able to do whatever you please." Nikola rebutted, "That's impossible. To make that much the size of the bets would have to be huge, more than I even have." Helen nodded but said, "But James has it, and he would be willing to invest it in this as a business venture..."

...

Nikola was extremely troubled by Helen's proposal. The entire plan, though mathematically sound, seemed doubtful to succeed in real life. For one thing, a player on a sufficiently long winning streak would be asked to leave, sometimes violently. For another, how would they keep an accurate count? Nikola was confident that he, James and Helen could do it, but what about the fourth? James had suggested Nigel, claiming that he was smarter than he seemed, but Nikola had serious doubts. If anyone was likely to mess the whole plan up and lose them a lot of money, it was Nigel. Beyond the practical objections, Nikola also had moral qualms. Helen had cured him of his gambling addiction and now here she was asking him to take it up again. It just didn't make any sense. She was his pure angel, meant to elevate him to a higher standard, not drag him down into the lower depths of hot passion. Had their unconventional relationship and disreputable companions somehow corrupted her?

...

Finals were as hectic as ever. Thankfully, he would have time after the semester to do all the grading. The scores need not be submitted until one month after the test, and he would be on break then, so it should be easy. Helen was one of the first students to finish and submit her test. Looking it over after she left, he couldn't find even one mistake. How lovely. The other students were not so talented. From glancing at their tests it looked like easily half of them would be retaking his classes, not something he was looking forward to.

After what seemed with an interminable time, the tests were all submitted. He dismissed the few sweaty-faced stragglers who nervously inquired about their scores with an abrupt, "I haven't even looked at them yet. You'll get your score in a month like everyone else." Finally, he was alone. He packed his briefcase and stepped outside only to find it raining heavily. He cursed and suddenly realized he had forgotten his hat in his office. Not wanting to go back and risk running into more sniveling students, he shaded his eyes with his hand and made his way quickly through the campus, heading to his little flat.

The cell-like room was rather neglected as of late. Generally, he only used it to sleep in on workdays, preferring to grade papers in the much more convivial and well-lit atmosphere of the botanical gardens or a cafe. Today, he just wanted to rest. The stress of dealing with the students, their worries and complaints, had worn him down. He hadn't heard anything more from the administration about his supposed favoritism of Helen, but the possibility of being fired hung over his head like a sword of Damocles. That was bad enough, but on top of it, he was afraid of how Helen would react when he told her that he couldn't let her audit his classes anymore. She had been visibly sad for several days when one of her other instructors had told her the same. He wished he didn't have to be the cause of her sadness as well.

He shivered as he stripped off his sodden clothes and put on a robe and some dry wool socks. His narrow bed, more of a cot really, creaked as he lay down in it. God, he felt exhausted. Hopefully, some sleep would do him some good.

...

Helen paced back and forth in their little rented room at Madame Ritter's. Nikola was terribly late. He usually arrived at seven in the evening, taking the first train after class. She had been uncertain if he would do the same today, as classes had ended two days ago and he could take an earlier train if he wished. After waiting all afternoon, she assumed that he must be a creature of habit and would arrive at his usual time. But it was now eleven at night, not long before the last train from Oxford. Had the train been delayed? It seemed unlikely. What if he had run into some sort of trouble? It wasn't unheard of for a person to be robbed, especially if he had been making his way through the red-light district. Was he held up making a report to the police? Surely not for so long... Could he have been injured and was at the hospital? Helen wrung her hands with worry. Stabbings were common enough during robberies. Cold fear filled her chest like a wave of icy water, stealing her breath. Such wounds were often mortal. Even if the knife hit no vital organs the subsequent infection often killed the victim. Unable to wait any longer she threw on her coat and left, heading for the hospital.

...

After questioning the hospital and the police, Helen felt reasonably sure that Nikola had never made it to London. It was very late; the first train of the morning would run in a few hours. She sat exhausted on a bench at the station, waiting for the train back to Oxford. What had happened to her dear Nikola? Where could he be?

...

Helen felt like a fool. She had never asked where Nikola lived and now she had no idea where to look for him. If he was at home, which seemed the most likely place, as she had already inquired at the police station and hospital of Oxford, then he was almost certainly severely ill. He would never have stood her up with no notice otherwise. After racking her brain for some other possible solution, she realized that she had no choice but to ask the Oxford administration. As his employer, they would have a record of his address.

She knocked on the door of the Dean of the Mathematics, hoping that he would prove sympathetic to her plight. "Come in." A high scratchy voice called through the door. She went into the small wood paneled room and stood before the desk, urgency written on her face. "Sir, I am sorry to bother you, but I have reason to believe that Dr. Tesla is in trouble. He may be seriously ill and I was hoping that you could give me his address so I can check on him." The pudgy little man stared at her for a moment like a startled squirrel, then blurted out, "Well, yes, I have his address, but it certainly wouldn't be proper to give it to you." Helen groaned, placing a hand over her face, "Please sir, have someone check on him-" The Dean interrupted her plea, "How do you know he is in trouble anyway?" Helen froze, realizing that their clandestine meetings were about to be revealed. 'Damn it all. I will have to tell him. Otherwise, who knows whether he will help Nikola or not.' She sighed and resigned herself to being judged, "We were supposed to meet yesterday evening. He was so late I became concerned that he had perhaps been robbed and checked the police station and the hospital, but he was not there." The Dean twirled his moustache pensively, opening and closing his mouth a few times, obviously trying to decide whether or not to say something. Helen decided to take him out of his misery of indecision, "Feel free to ask me anything. I will be honest with you; all I want is to make sure Dr. Tesla is alright."

"Why is it that you two didn't get married? It seems to me that Dr. Tesla would make a fine husband and this cloud of scandal hanging over you two would have been dispelled." Helen clenched her teeth, feeling crushed by the weight of what she would have to say. "I have refused his proposal. I..." Her voice broke as tears came to her eyes, "Forgive me." She whispered and wiped her face. "I have been harmed by a man before, and-" She swallowed through the tightness in her throat, "I am afraid." The little man's eyes darkened with such pity, Helen found it nearly unbearable, but she would endure it, for Nikola's sake. The Dean took a long shaky breath, "His flat is number 63, on the second floor of the building across the street. You know, the red one with the flower stand on the corner." Helen nodded, collected herself and turned to go.

"There is one more thing you should know." The Dean called after her. She turned back, her hand resting on the door knob. "The administration has decided to let Dr. Tesla go after he submits the grades for this semester due to complaints by the students over favoritism, lowered academic standards and improper relations. There will be no letter of recommendation. It's unlikely he will be able to find another position teaching in England without one. If you love him, you should marry him. He will need someone to look after him once this is all over." Helen nodded hollowly, and then left.

...

Helen knocked several times on the door, only for there to be no answer. Out of desperation she tried the knob and was surprised to find it unlocked. Did he always leave his door unlocked or had he simply forgotten? She went into the one room flat. It was small and dark, the air heavy with the scent of illness. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw a huddled form on the narrow cot against the far wall. "Nikola?" she called tremulously, approaching the bed cautiously. A small nightstand held an unlit candle and a box of matches. She quickly lit it, comforted slightly by the warm glow. Her hand shook as it hovered over his narrow shoulder. He was so still. Was he...? Her hand touched him and she sagged with relief to find him warm. She shook him gently, "Nikola, wake up!" After a few minutes he stirred and groaned weakly, "Шта?" He shivered and moaned, "умирем..." Helen pulled on his shoulder, trying to roll him over without pulling him out of the narrow bed. Finally, she had to put her arms under his slim frame and physically lift him. Despite his height, he was not that heavy. "God, you're too thin!" She grunted as she maneuvered him to face her. His eyes were half open, surrounded by dark circles and showed no sign of recognition. She felt his forehead. He was so hot, it was frightening. His skin was dry. He was dehydrated, feverish; probably he had been this way for the last two days, based on his condition and that of the room. A basin of vomit sat on the floor next to a chamber pot. Poor thing. She knew how he hated dirt and sickness. If he were more cognizant of what was happening she knew he would have been terribly humiliated. It was impossible to treat him here in this dank, unheated room. She would have to get help and move him to her house.

...

The landlady had been most uncooperative until Helen had given her Nikola's rent for the next month in advance. After that, she had called the groundskeeper and instructed him to help carry the sick man to a waiting carriage. Nikola muttered in Serbian the whole way to Helen's house, finally quieting once he was placed in a warm bed in a room with a roaring fire. Helen paid the groundskeeper and began tending to Nikola's recovery. She forced some water into him, despite his weak resistance and then prepared him some medicine. The herbal decoction was thick and bitter so she sweetened it with honey and cut it with some warm tea. She gently opened his mouth and poured it in, then held it closed and stroked his throat to encourage him to swallow. Finally, after several painstaking efforts, she managed to get enough of the medicine into him that she felt he had a good chance of benefitting from it. She drew some water from the well and placed cold compresses on his forehead, gradually lowering his fever, until he fell into a quiet sleep. Keeping watch over him from her chair by his bedside, Helen finally closed her eyes then drifted off into exhausted slumber.

...

"Helen? Helen?" She woke to hear a weak voice croaking her name. Nikola's eyes were open and he was apparently lucid enough that he was speaking English. "Are you alright? I'm thirsty..." he mumbled, blinking rapidly, trying to sit up. Helen jumped up and got him some water then scolded him, "Don't move. You are very ill and need to rest." Nikola drank the water too quickly and coughed, spilling some on himself. He grimaced with embarrassment while coughing weakly. "Sorry," he forced out between coughs. She patted him as dry as she could then pulled the blankets up to his chin, tucking him in firmly. "How did you do this to yourself? You got pneumonia and became extremely dehydrated. Do you know how many people die of pneumonia every year?" Nikola shook his head minutely, almost too weak to speak. She gave him a little more water which seemed to help a bit. "I forgot my hat. It was raining..." he whispered, eyes blinking slowly as he drifted toward sleep. "Ah, ah, ah! I need you to take some more medicine." She retrieved the mug sitting by the fire and placed it at his lips. After the first taste he gagged. "Ugh, what?!" She sternly admonished him, "Just drink it as fast as possible. It will all be over with soon." He complied docilely, making a face the entire time. Finally, after he finished she let him go to sleep. Helen watched him sleep pensively. What would he do without her to take care of him?

...

Helen was truly a wonderful nurse. She was kind and gentle with him; humored his complaints and soothed his misgivings. He was as weak as a kitten for two days, unable to even get to his feet to relieve himself. She produced a bed pan and asked him to use it. Reluctant as he was, she told him slightly sarcastically that as a doctor she was familiar with bodily functions including elimination. She reassured him she would leave the room and leave him to it in private. He could only nod silently and comply, remembering the same sort of scene playing out when he had almost died of cholera as a youth. His mother had cared for him so tenderly. In reply to his protests she had said, "Don't you know I cleaned all this up for years when you were a baby? You will always be my baby, even when you are a grown man." She had smiled her mysterious half-smile and patted his hand then left him to do his business. His mother, like Helen, was impossible to argue with.

Helen took the pan away then cleaned him with a warm, damp cloth. "All better?" she teased, smiling down at him as she patted him dry. She laughed delighted when his body reacted slightly to her gentle touch. Her laugh was contagious and he chuckled letting the embarrassment wash over him harmlessly. "Thank you for loving me." He whispered and watched amazed as Helen seemed to glow from within as she murmured, "You are everything to me. Of course I love you."

...

Helen listened to Nikola's breathing with her stethoscope. His lungs sounded clear. She took his pulse while looking at her watch, then examined his eyes and throat. "Everything is back to normal. Hmm, you have surprisingly good teeth." Nikola scoffed, "They're crooked like everyone in my family." Helen smiled, showing off her perfectly even smile. "Well, yes, you can't be one hundred percent perfect. People will start to think you're a Venusian or something." Nikola barked out a laugh, "I think Croatia is distant enough. People hardly seem to believe it's a real place. They always ask if it near Transylvania. How obnoxious." Helen hummed in agreement, then became solemn.

"I had to ask the Dean where you live. He knows we have continued to see each other outside of class, and...There's no easy way to tell you this-" "I've been fired." He broke in, evidently unsurprised. Helen furrowed her brow, "You've been expecting this." She said flatly, realizing he had been hiding this from her. "When were you planning on telling me that the administration was still...harassing...you over me?" Nikola sighed tiredly, "Now that the semester is over, I was going to tell you that you couldn't attend my classes anymore. That is what they wanted from me. Honestly, I thought they would at least let you finish the semester, but I guess they wanted me to eject you immediately." Helen sat there rigidly, wanting to be angry with him, wanting him to fight so that she would have an excuse to yell at someone, but his sad eyes sapped her of all her ire. She slumped in defeat. "I guess this is all my fault," she said in a small voice, feeling like a stupid child. Nikola placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer, craning his head to look her in the eye. "Why do you say that?" he asked with the kindest concern. She shook her head, "If I had just accepted your proposal, none of this would have ever happened."

Nikola stilled, shocked by her words. "I don't expect that of you, but if you are reconsidering...Are you reconsidering?" Helen breathed in sharply and looked up at her lover. He still wished to marry her, even when they were free from the pressure of society's expectations. Involuntarily, an unworthy thought appeared in her mind, 'He has been fired and has no prospects. Of course he wants to marry.' She bit her lip hard enough to hurt. How could she think such a thing of her innocent Nikola? The man was oblivious to money or advantage. All he cared about was his intellectual passions and his love for her. The uncharitable thought did however make her concerned about his future prospects. He would not be able to continue in academia. Once fired from a university, especially one as prestigious as Oxford, it would follow him for the rest of his career. Really, he had no choice but to start afresh.

"I love you very much..." she started, then stopped to gather her thoughts. "But..." Nikola interjected. She smiled ruefully, "I have more to confess." Nikola nodded, "You can tell me anything." His gaze was so soft and warm, she regretted having to upset him like this. "Remember when I told you I saw you gambling? I followed you to Madame Ritter's. All the rooms have peep holes for security reasons and I saw you with Anna." She blurted it out, trying to get it over with as fast as possible. Nikola turned absolutely red and seemed completely dumbstruck by this information. She lamely tried to fill the awkward silence, "I still respect you. I don't-I mean, I'm not interested in doing...that-" Nikola made some inarticulate alarmed noise, covering his face with one hand and waving her off with the other. Finally, he gathered his thoughts and said simply, "I guess you know all my humiliating secrets." He cocked his head looking mildly alarmed, "Does the room we are renting also...?" Helen shrugged and nodded, "But I asked Madame Ritter to make sure we weren't spied on." Nikola laughed slightly hysterically and said sarcastically, "Alright, I guess that's fine then." He took a deep breath and smiled bitterly. "I have my own confessions."

He spoke solemnly, "I broke my promise to my mother to never gamble again. I was studying physics in Graz on a military scholarship. I became addicted to gambling and dropped out. My mother got me to stop and my uncles sent me back to school in mathematics. That's why I never got to study electrical engineering." The defeated air he wore swirled about him like a cloak. "Dr. Kenneth Kelly was my lover. He left me for someone better. A woman, of course. That's why I started gambling again. Because I'm..." He hung his head and shifted around uneasily in his chair. "I have no self-control. I'm unworthy of your love, and I understand if you can't entrust yourself to a failure-" Helen put her hand over his mouth, silencing him. "There is no one else in this world that I trust more, and beyond that, I believe in you. All this, every seeming failure is for a reason. Every weakness, every sin, when it is overcome will make you stronger, until your will is of pure iron." Nikola stared at her. "That's so much like what my mother would say..." Helen smiled, "I am looking forward to meeting her." Nikola grinned broadly, happy she was planning their future already.

She held up one finger, "I will marry you under one condition, which I am sure you can fulfill." Nikola nodded eagerly, ready to do whatever task she set for him. "Play twenty one using my system, keep your head, be disciplined, and win. Then use the money to study electrical engineering at London University. I want you to be who you were always meant to be. I want you to conquer your weakness for gambling, attain your dreams and be happy. Then, you need never feel unworthy of my love again." Nikola bowed his head seriously and vowed, "Yes. I will do it. I will do it for you."

...

The casinos of London were utterly unprepared for the terrifying efficiency of the four. Each person counting made the minimum bet at their table until it reached the highest probability of winning hands. They then signaled to Nikola with a simple gesture. Helen pulled out her fan and waved it leisurely. James pulled out a cigar and began extolling its quality to fellow players or the dealer. Nigel crossed his arms and began a diatribe about the evils of women to anyone that would listen. Nikola would then cruise casually over to their table, make a series of large bets and walk away with tremendous amounts of money. Then they simply repeated their efforts at every casino that offered the game twenty one. Never before had so much money been made for so little effort.

...

When, after a few months, they had cleaned out virtually every casino of the London underground, James invited them to his townhouse to celebrate. The wealthy man instructed his servants to prepare the smoking room with brandy and champagne. Nigel threw his share of the cash in the air then rolled in it like a dog. James was dividing his into several piles and writing notes addressed to his stock brokers. Helen meticulously counted and recounted hers, then stowed it in her purse. Nikola handed his share to Helen, and then went over to window to watch the birds congregating in James' small courtyard. "Helen, look, a dove." He murmured, taking her arm and pointing it out to her. "It looks like a pigeon to me," she said then laughed when he asked her what the difference was. Apparently, in some languages they were called the same thing.

...

Helen finished the exam of the young woman. She had come complaining of burning sensations with urination and Helen had done a full pelvic exam in her fully outfitted room in Madame Ritter's House of Punishment/Low Cost Clinic. The little plaque on the door still read 'Dr. Helen Magnus' and the second-hand writing desk was still there, but the padded bench, privacy curtain, the sink with hot running water and soap and so on, were all new. The girl not only had an infection of the urethra, but also a case of asymptomatic gonorrhea. Helen instructed the young woman how best to prepare and take the medicine. "Take this balsam of copaiba and take two drams three times a day. Make sure to drink fluids, tea would be best, until the symptoms subside." The relieved woman thanked her profusely and left whatever little money she could spare in a box by the door.

The clinic in the red-light district was doing well. Helen made a minimal amount of money treating general health complaints as well as venereal diseases amongst some of the neediest residents of London, but received substantial funding from several patrons. They were mostly wealthy women who wished to support charity and were interested in finding more humane alternatives to the public health crusade that was currently leading to the arrest and forcible treatment of prostitutes. With their generous support, her work was becoming a model for treatment and prevention. All in all, she was very pleased with her progress.

The only problem was her inexperience at treating the male prostitutes that sometimes came to the clinic. As it was, she felt unable to properly diagnose many of their complaints as it would involve examination of the prostate, which for obvious reasons, had not been included in her education. She had obtained a book explaining the procedure, but had no 'hands on' experience. Luckily, she did have access to a man on whom she could practice.

...

Nikola was waiting for her at the small townhouse she had bought after selling her home in Oxford. As usual he was all abuzz with excitement over something he had learned about in class, usually something having to do with electricity that she didn't really understand. She enjoyed his animated gestures and flowery language as he tried to explain to her how a dynamo worked and how he thought he could improve it. Once he ran out of steam, she told him of her desire to "improve my knowledge of male anatomy" then asked him if he would be willing to volunteer his body for her use. "Well, if it's for science." he joked, and then asked where she would like to do it. She smiled mischievously, "I think the settee would be fine."

...

Nikola disrobed completely then lay belly down on a sheet Helen had placed on the red velvet settee. She claimed it was for cleanliness, but he had just bathed and thought perhaps she was attempting to create a clinical air. She hummed over him as she read from a thick medical tome. "It says here you should get on your hands and knees..." Nikola complied readily. Helen said, "I'm going to put my hand on your hip now." She laid her cool, soft hand just above his right buttock. He shivered, feeling a bit cold. He wondered idly what he looked like to her clinical gaze, his genitals high and tight in the chilly air, bundled close between his skinny thighs, his small neatly curved buttocks, the cleft between them exposed to her view. He was aware of having absolutely no secrets from Helen. She was his other self. She was his wife.

"I'm going to slide my hand down to your buttocks now." Nikola remembered vividly the exquisite feeling of being flogged just where her hand was resting. He felt his penis swell and twitch between his clenched thighs. "You will feel something wet right now. It's just a little oil to make this more comfortable." He felt the oil drip between his buttocks. It was a decidedly queer feeling... "Ah, Helen, what do you mean, to make it more comfortable?" Helen shushed him and said, "I'm going to penetrate you with my finger now, then you will feel me move around a bit to feel your prostate." "Um, Helen, I don't know... I think that is going to hurt." Helen shushed him again. "Don't whine. I'll be gentle, you know that. I wouldn't do anything to hurt my baby." Nikola squeezed his thighs together nervously. He felt her little finger slide between his buttocks until her fingertip rested on his most private spot. "Are you ready?" she whispered urgently.

Nikola breathed deeply and relaxed, "Alright..." he murmured. He felt her increase the pressure until the muscle gave and she slid right in. There was the slightest burning sensation as she entered his body, but it faded instantly. After a moment she curled her finger inside of him and pressed downward against a tender spot inside. As she began rubbing her finger around, feeling the shape and size of his prostate, an immense wave of pleasure radiated out over his groin, emanating from its origin at the tip of her finger. He moaned overwhelmed by the voluptuous sensation, unlike any he had ever felt before. Spreading his legs, he tilted his hips back to meet her exploring hand. He felt like he was being...fucked. His hard penis was sweating a sticky clear fluid. It throbbed and spasmed, dripping a long trail of the viscous liquid onto the sheet below him. "Oh!" Helen exclaimed startled, when he shuddered and began to ejaculate. "The book didn't say anything about this."

...

Helen cleaned up the mess her experiment had made, wiped off her hands and began thumbing through the medical text. There didn't seem to be any information about the prostate being an erogenous zone...

"Helen, I forbid you to do this to other men! The idea is just too much!" Nikola had evidently regained his powers of speech and was sitting on her settee, hair sticking up messily, the dirty sheet wrapped around his waist. He looked rather comical in his outrage.

She shook her head, muttering, "You forbid...?" and flipped to the index, trying to figure out what had just happened. Was this a normal reaction or was Nikola's arousal simply a conditioned response to her touch? The book didn't seem to have anything useful to say. If anything most men complained about pain rather than showing signs of pleasure. "Well, it must just be you." She concluded snapping the book closed.

"What the hell does that mean?!" Nikola had actually raised his voice. And he had cursed. Helen couldn't believe it; he had never done such a thing before. She raised a brow and looked at him closely. He was flushed red and sweaty, muscles tight, breathing rapid. He was...mad. She tried to soothe him. "You are used to feeling pleasure at my touch, that's all." Nikola shook his head and said angrily, "No, you don't understand. That was...I can't even explain-I don't want you doing that to anyone else. Ever!"

Helen blinked, bewildered by her husband's uncharacteristically aggressive manner. Had the sensation of her touching his prostate really affected him so deeply? Perhaps it led to an increased release of testosterone...? She approached him cautiously. "May I examine you? You're acting very strangely." She said softly, as though soothing a wild animal. Nikola threw his hands in the air, exasperated, "Don't treat me this way! Just listen! You can't do this...exam to other men. It's wrong!"

...

Helen was most displeased with her husband's behavior as of late. Every day he begged her to promise not to examine any men, but she refused to agree because it was her duty as a doctor to help people in need. Nikola was driving her to distraction with his pleading, but she thought she had come up with a possible solution. First, she would need to order some medical equipment...

...

When Nikola hovered worriedly about her asking if she had had any male patients today she smiled archly and said, "Not yet." The sullen look he gave her was annoying. She sat on the settee and he settled next to her. Instead of hugging him as he obviously wished she abruptly reached for his pants, unbuttoned them, and pulled out his flaccid penis. Ignoring his startled cries, she pulled the device she had stowed in her bodice out, fastened and locked it around his penis. She had the little key on a ribbon about her neck, which she tucked back between her breasts. "Now that you are restrained, I will tell you what I think of your naughty behavior of the last few days." Nikola looked up at her resentfully from examining the cruel little device she had put on him. It was a set of two rings, the inner one smaller and locking, and the outer one composed of sharpened teeth designed to 'discourage' a man's organ from attaining an erection. It was mainly used to stop nocturnal emissions, but this locking version worked nicely as a chastity device as well.

"You once promised me that you would obey me. And now, after everything I've done for you, you seem to think that you can control me." She abruptly stood and looked down at him. "Do you think because you are my husband now that you have the right to tell me what to do?" Nikola just looked up at her, seeming worried at her scolding tone. "Follow me." She commanded and swept out of the room. She led him to the bathing room and for the first time, stripped completely naked before him. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and demanded, "Draw me a bath." Nikola was staring at her body. He began complying with her request but was distracted by the curves of her hips, her sweet heart-shaped bottom, her lily white thighs, and finally, he was staring at her neatly trimmed sex. The little split was revealed to his hungry gaze-He hissed in pain as the jagged little teeth bit into his growing erection.

Helen smiled smugly, "You seem to be having some difficulty there. If only you weren't so lustful, you could spare yourself this pain." Nikola clenched his fist and took a moment to try and concentrate on getting his erection to subside. After letting him stew for a while Helen demanded he wash her body. Touching this usually forbidden flesh of his wife was so exciting. He gently caressed her buttocks; sliding soapy hands all over her smooth skin-He groaned painfully, "Helen, please, this really hurts!" Helen chastised him mercilessly, "You have done this to yourself! You think you can control me, but look at you, you can't even control your own body!" She took his hand and slid it between her thighs, making him wash the tender little folds of her sex. Nikola was torn brutally between pleasure and pain. "Do you think I don't know what you have wanted to do to this? I know you, all your shameful secrets, how you've dreamed of violating me, polluting me." Nikola groaned, "Oh God, I'm sorry!" Helen pushed him away and pointed imperiously to the ladle hanging from the edge of the tub.

Nikola gently rinsed her perfect, pure body, helped her out of the tub and got her a towel. Instead of wrapping it around herself she demanded he rub her dry then threw the towel on the floor. "Get down on the floor." She ordered, pushing him to his knees on top of the damp towel. She made him sit so that her sex was eye-level, then brought his face to it. "Kiss me." She commanded sternly. Nikola swallowed, in an agony of painful arousal, and complied, tenderly pressing his lips to her glorious sex. "You will _never_ penetrate me. Do you understand?" Nikola nodded his head frantically. The device was becoming exceedingly harsh as he became increasingly aroused by her domineering behavior. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself? Have you realized the error of your ways?"

Nikola bent low to the ground and kissed her feet passionately, the top of each one, her big toe. She tsked in disgust and pulled her feet away. "What is wrong with you? I punish you and it just gives you more enjoyment! No wonder you had such an abnormal reaction to the prostate exam. You are obviously nothing more than a sexual deviant." Nikola nodded helplessly, and looked up at her, tears in his eyes. Helen gazed down at him with pity. "Are you sorry for trying to forbid me from helping male patients?" Nikola took a shaky breath and said brokenly, "Yes, it was wrong of me. You know what's best." Helen smiled beneficently and picked up the little key from around her neck. "Good boy. I knew you would come to your senses." She made him get to his feet, unlocked him, then fussed over his sore penis, but he waved it off in favor of a comforting embrace. As she held him tightly he knew that everything was as it should be. His glorious, powerful and pure Helen was here in his arms, and he was completely hers.

...

The End


End file.
